On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me:
The joiner and the spell
19th December
Nick hummed to the radio playing in the background. He lifted the piece of British elm wood he’d been sanding by hand. He examined the door before removing his mask, pleased with the smooth finish. He brushed at the dust clinging to his face before walking to the back wall of the kitchen. His booted feet waded through the wood shaving scattered about the floor, creating a mess with every step.
He gave the six new cabinets a grunt of approval as he moved to the final cupboard in the row. It had taken hours of discussion to persuade Aaden that the British elm wood would be perfect for his kitchen. Aaden had wanted something darker, but Nick had argued the lighter wood would make the space feel bigger. With the new large patio doors fitted along the back wall, it had opened up the space, especially with Aaden knocking out the old pantry. That space now housed the hand-crafted bench he’d made as a housewarming gift. Not that the fucker deserved it for the subterfuge. He was now going to have to make a table to match it, so Aaden and Greg could have a breakfast nook that looked out on the garden.
Nick sighed at the amount of work he’d still left to do
He placed the door inside the elm wood frame and checked the alignment. He gave himself a small pat on the back when it fit perfectly. He cast his gaze around the newly fitted dark brown, gold-flecked marble tops, searching for the screwdriver and hinges he needed. The messy state of the work counters had him growl.
Aaden was supposed to be in here helping, keeping things tidy so he could find what he needed. But no, where is the big fucker, driving Greg to work.
A Greg who hadn’t been able to get out of bed yesterday due to an epic hangover and throbbing head from the two black eyes he now sported. Nick scowled at the cupboard door. His shoulders drooped at the thought of his friend’s misery.
It would seem Vic had a better punch than any of them had thought. A punch that must have landed just right because when Aaden had woken, his shout had both Nick and Brody charging into their bedroom to see what the fuss was about. The minutes-long rant Aaden had while he’d thrown clothes on had Greg gripping his head.
All the while, Aaden appeared to be on a mission. A mission that was all about inflicting harm on Vic for marking his redheaded beauty so badly. The battle he and Brody had to stop Aaden had left him with a headache and a very angry brother.
He was so lost in trying to calm Aaden down it had at least momentarily made him forget his own problems with a certain someone. A certain someone, who had stood in his brother’s bedroom, with next to nothing on, sporting more muscles than the Rock. It was difficult for him to get his mouth to function when his tongue had become glued to the roof of his mouth.
Nick sighed in frustration. His head still ached, making the impulse to stop and go upstairs a real possibility. Well, that was if he wasn’t such a scaredy cat about bumping into Brody.
When is Brody going to go home?
Days, days he’d been here, being all helpful and oozing sex appeal all over the place. Even in his scruff, he couldn’t hide how fucking stunning he was. And wasn’t that the fucking issue.
He was convinced that’s why he’d lost his marbles on Sunday night. The night came back to him in vivid clarity.
Nick’s eyes widened, never wavering from the posse coming up behind Vic. A posse that resembled a bunch of gunslingers the way they’d swaggered through the bar towards them. Nick’s mouth froze midrant, and he licked his dry lips.
Oh good God! Why did they have to turn up now?
Nick ignored the sudden tightening in his jeans at seeing a certain someone, all macho and posturing behind his brother. He wasn’t sure how much they’d heard of the stuff Vic had been spouting off. The hurtful comments about his fem appearance stung, and the thought of Brody hearing them made him want to cringe.
It took all his effort to blank his features. He sat listening to Vic make a complete arse of himself in front of everyone while Nick’s mind was busy trying to figure out why Brody was there.
He was not sure how or why he’d meekly obeyed Brody after he’d demanded he follow him to his car. But yet there he was. He couldn’t fathom how twenty minutes later they were in the car park at Glen Wyllin beach. A stoic Brody sat silently next to him.
Nick groaned when his mind flooded with the scene that had followed in the car. The same scene that had been on repeat for two days. His body didn’t know which way was up, revving to go since he’d got back to Aaden’s, in the early hours of Monday morning.
“Why have we stopped? We aren’t home.” Nick gave Brody a quick glance, trying to get his alcohol-controlled libido under control. The scent of Brody’s aftershave seemed to fill the car, making every breath torture, when his cock begged to come out and bathe in that smell.
“I think we need to have a little chat, don’t you? This tension between us, we need to resolve it, squirt.”
The sexy timbre had Nick’s body firing on all cylinders while his brain tried to grasp why all of a sudden he felt his anger build.
“Will you stop with the fucking ‘squirt’ crap.” Nick bellowed.
He found his face inches from Brody’s, not even sure when he’d moved. His alcohol-laden breath heaved out, mingling with Brody’s. “This is why there’s tension between us. You”—Nick drilled his finger into Brody’s dark coat—“calling me stupid names.”
Nick didn’t acknowledge the voice that told him he secretly liked it. He wasn’t going there he’d promised himself, especially not now when he could feel his sexual frustration and anger building. The years of longing, of wanting what he couldn’t have, pushed at the tight leash he always held when Brody was around.
His hand flattened on Brody’s broad chest. He was not sure why he was still trying to provoke him. “I’m not a child, and I haven’t been for many years…”
“I know you’re not a fucking child, for fuck’s sake.” Brody’s angry interruption had Nick still.
The sparks of Brody’s temper fizzed between them. Knowing he’d gone too far, Nick went to pull back only to find his seat belt unclipped before he was hauled unceremoniously across the car into Brody’s lap. The feel of the steering wheel digging into his side and hip distracted him for a second before hot, moist breath coated his lips and his mouth was crushed in a soul-searing kiss. His mind shut down under the onslaught of desire that pulsed to life between them.
Nick felt the air trap inside his chest, but he was unwilling to move when warm hands cupped his cheeks. Firm lips nudged his, encouraging him to open. His mind screamed that this was a mistake. The cloud of desire smothered the screams. The temptation was too much to resist after all this time, and he opened up. The taste of something spicy lingered on Brody’s tongue, along with a faint hint of garlic as it swept into his mouth, making him want to drown under the attack of sensations that rocked through his body.
Nick moaned.
He writhed against the hardness he could feel growing under his backside. His mind yelled at him to stop, that this was a mistake, even as Brody thrust up into Nick’s backside, making his arse clench in anticipation. The feel of his silk rubbing against his sensitive, heated flesh had common sense prevail.
Nick tugged his head back a centimetre when large, rough palms held him still. Nick tried to pull back further and suck in some air. Air, he hoped, that would help ease the ache in his chest and the rushing noise in his ears.
He felt Brody finally relent. His grip relaxed, allowing Nick to move his head.
Unable to get any space, Nick found his gaze trapped in Brody’s brooding eyes. The sliver of moonlight in the dark sky cast shadows in the car and over Brody’s face. He couldn’t get a read on him, and he felt at a loss when Brody said nothing.
Nick heaved a sigh before shifting back into his seat. He silently buckled up and faced forward. He wasn’t sure if he was pleased or not when Brody didn’t stop him.
The sound of the engine broke the heavy silence that stretched, making the nerves in his stomach tighten unbearably.
Now what?
Nick didn’t know how many times he’d asked that question. Brody, on the other hand, wandered around acting like nothing had happened.
It doesn’t seem to matter what I do. I still can’t stop the memory from fucking with me.
Nick faltered. His hands trembled. His thoughts shut down when he heard the sound of footfall on the bare wooden stairs coming from the hall.
He braced himself. Although he avoided looking over at the doorway, he knew who it was. The heady scent of Brody’s aftershave was already wafting around him with the scent of wood shaving. His cock sat up, making him want to groan out loud when it begged for attention it hadn’t got yesterday. He barely resisted the urge to give his cock a thump.
Nick glared down at the offending article.
Haven’t you got me in enough bother?
He gripped the door with one hand and tried to nudge his cock into a more comfortable position just as Brody walked into the room. The sultry gleam in Brody’s grey-green eyes as he licked his firm lips did little to help Nick’s cause. He felt his cheeks flame. The memories of those lips and what they could do to his mouth were enough to make him want to beg for another taste, another touch.
Nick gave himself a mental shake, hoping that would stop his wayward thoughts. He totally blamed his new-found raging horny hormones on Joe, Greg, and Brad’s talk of voyeurism. The more he’d thought about it.
It has to be that.
They’d stolen all his common sense. The sense of desperation that went with that thought had his brows dig together as he stared at the door in front of him.
He tried to rationalise the lack of action his cock had seen since he’d dumped his last boyfriend several months ago. It was all conspiring against him. To culminate in one hard-as-nails, pissed-off cock. That now seemed desperate for anyone to touch it.
No. The little voice in the back of his head reminded. Not just anyone, only a certain someone, who was now standing less than ten feet away.
The bold nudge his cock gave against his zipper when Brody’s scent increased had Nick wanting to bang his head on something hard, in the hopes it would knock some sense back into him.
He stilled when he heard, then felt Brody move closer. Nick felt heat at his back. He inhaled, licking his suddenly dry lips. Nick held his breath, praying Brody wouldn’t touch him whilst also praying he would.
As he felt his needs wage war inside him, it took a second to register the tingling sensation invading his body as he found his fingers slackening on the door he was holding, against his will. He gave a silent curse, knowing it was too late to stop her when the door crashed to the floor. Said same door then decided to use his foot as a stopper. It bounced hard before slamming into the floorboards with a loud clatter.
“Fucking hell, you shitting bastard,” Nick yelled. Pain exploded up his leg. He hopped backwards and kicked the door in the process with his injured foot. He forgot Brody was behind him, and his body slammed into Brody’s large compact chest while his backside was cupped by his groin.
Nick wanted to whimper at the feel of all that hardness touching him, but the throbbing in his foot wouldn’t be ignored.
He pushed off Brody and hobbled with as much dignity as he could muster to the carved wooden elm bench, which sat in the corner of the room. His brain struggled to keep up with the overload of pain that each step caused. He cursed under his breath with every step he took.
Nick plonked his backside down and peeled off his boot and sock. His stomach lurched, and the Pepsis he’d drunk, instead of having breakfast, sloshed under the movement, making his throat burn.
His foot swelled right before his eyes. The lovely shades of black spreading across his toes made the urge to cry harder to quell. He gave Brody a teary-eyed, mournful look.
Nick winced at the sound of the front door slamming into the hall wall, followed by the noise of ten thousand elephants stomping. Or that’s what it felt like when a bellowing Aaden thundered into the kitchen.
“What the hell happened? I could hear you shouting outside.”
He was not sure he was quite ready to release his lip for fear he’d cry like a big baby. And to do that in front of Brody was so not happening.
Nick watched Aaden drop to the filthy floor in front of him when he didn’t answer but pointed to his foot instead.
“Fucking hell, Nick! What on earth did you do? This looks like it might be broken.”
As Aaden spoke, he gently cupped his left foot, examining it. Not giving him a chance to answer, he barrelled on.
“I’ll need to take you to the hospital so we can get this looked at.”
Nick wanted to sigh when Brody answered for him, explaining to Aaden about what had happened. Nick knew Brody’s explanation wasn’t actually what happened. But he didn’t argue, because… How the hell did you explain that a certain little witch had made him drop the door, not without sounding like he was losing it?
Nick sighed. Hunching, he opened his mouth to speak when Aaden looked expectantly at Brody. Before he could get the words out, Aaden spoke first to Brody.
“Can we use your car? I’m not sure our vans are the best transportation. He’ll need to keep his foot elevated so it doesn’t swell anymore.”
“Yeah, no problem. I’ll get Nick a jacket and grab my keys. I’ll drive if you direct me.”
Nick felt steamrollered when Aaden wouldn’t listen to his protests after Brody left the room. Brody’s smirk when he returned told him he’d heard the conversation.
Nick ground his teeth together when Aaden lifted him into the back of Brody’s car. He tried to stop the shout of pain at Aaden jostling his foot. He thrust a fist into his mouth to still the urge to yelp.
Brody put the car in reverse when Aaden got in. He stemmed his need to repeat that he would be fine if they just left him alone, knowing it was a waste of his breath. And it would be a complete lie, a lie he wasn’t sure he could keep up when his foot seemed to grow right before his eyes.
The trip seemed to take forever, but they finally pulled into the overflowing car park.
“Shit, there aren’t any parks. Aaden, I’ll carry Nick in if you go and find a park.” Brody’s barked command as he stopped the car had both Nick and Aaden turn towards him.
“Why, he’s my brother. I’ll carry him in.” Aaden’s brow furrowed as he argued.
Nick wasn’t sure why Aaden was getting cross. Now him, that was a completely different matter. Before he got a chance to say anything, he was lifted out of the car by a resolute Brody.
Nick fought the smile that wanted to sneak past his anger at Aaden storming round the side of the car.
“I said I’d take him.” Aaden’s angry growl did little to stop Brody.
Nick felt Aaden yank on Brody’s arm, trying to get him to release his firm grip.
Nick quirked up his eyebrows at the tug of war between his brother and Brody.
What the hell is this all about?
“I can walk or hobble at least if you two arses would just let me down.” Nick winced at the high-pitched tone of his voice, but the fact that Brody hugged him closer to his firm chest had all coherent thoughts scatter. The urge to snuggle and push his head into Brody’s shoulder had him go rigid.
No, no, no. Oh no, you don’t.
“I said I’d take him.” Aaden’s sulky demand had Nick roll his eyes.
“Put me down, you pair of imbeciles. You’re both acting like children fighting over a favourite toy.”
When they both ignored him, facing off in the car park, Nick huffed out a breath. He wriggled in Brody’s grip.
“Stop that or I’ll end up dropping you.”
Brody gave him a tight squeeze as he spoke, causing his body to take notice. Wanting to whimper, Nick stilled, hoping that would help.
“I’ll take him. I told you I have him. So you go and just park the car, Aaden, and stop being a dick. You can follow us in.” Brody didn’t seem to want an answer as he marched towards the door with Nick.
Nick felt himself blanch when several heads turned. The stares ranged from disapproval to humour as Brody strode through the ED doors and headed to the desk. Nick couldn’t stop his head from burying in his Brody’s neck. He avoided looking at everyone sitting in the blue plastic chairs when Brody started to calmly relay to the receptionist what had happened. Nick felt his breath halt in his lungs when Brody recited all his personal details at the receptionist as she asked for them.
Nick struggled to grasp how Brody knew so much about him.
He was sidetracked when Brody laid on the charm. It got them rushed into the department just as Aaden came barrelling through the door. After the doctor had examined his foot, they wheeled him around to X-ray. Nick was pleased to get away from the continued griping between them as they argued.
The healthcare assistant wheeled him back from the X-ray department. As they approached the cubicle he’d left Aaden and Brody in, he could hear Aaden speaking.
“What’s up with you and my brother? You can stop avoiding the question, Brody. You’ve been acting weird since you arrived, and now the last couple of days you’ve been all over Nick, like a bad rash.”
Nick held his breath, waiting to see what he would say. He prayed the healthcare assistant pushing his chair would slow down.
“I’ve had a lot of crap going on with work; stuff I can’t talk about. You know how it is. And squirt is just his normal pain in my arse self. I’m just worried about that dickhead the other night going on about how fem he is. It’s just…”
Brody’s voice trailed off as he pushed back into the room. Nick silently cursed the healthcare assistant when Brody acted as if he hadn’t just been talking about him and carried on talking to Aaden about the kitchen.
Nick brooded as they wheeled him back to the car, with crutches, an air cast on his foot, and instructions to return on Thursday for an orthopedic clinic appointment. An appointment that would determine if he needed surgery to his broken foot or not. It would appear the door had displaced several bones, and they weren’t sure if he would need surgery to put them back in place.
“How the hell am I going to get your kitchen finished now? It could be weeks before I’ll be able to finish up.” Nick knew he was stating the obvious as Aaden had been present when the doctor had explained his injury. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from bemoaning his situation. Especially now, if he got trapped in Aaden’s house with Brody.
He had avoided asking any questions about how long Brody was staying after he’d chewed Aaden’s ear off for not telling him Brody was coming to stay in the first place. Now he wished he had.
Avoidance had been the key for years to stop the feelings that always seemed to be bigger and more overwhelming when Brody was near. The urges he got to tell Brody how he really felt often went hand in hand with the need to run a bloody mile. And no matter how many years had gone by, the feelings remained buried under the layer of denial and lies he told himself. Lies he told his brother to avoid any conflict, and though Aaden had now found his soulmate, Nick still didn’t think it was right to poach on his brother’s territory.
“Nick, you okay back there? You’re making your lip bleed chewing it like that. Are the painkillers they gave you wearing off?” Aaden’s concerned questions had him shaking off the past.
He released his lip, swiping it with his tongue, tasting the metallic, coppery flavour. He baulked as it hit the back of his throat. Nick swallowed several times. He swiped at his mouth with his dirty sleeve, uncaring.
“No, I’m not okay. How can I be? I think you need to book me a flight home.” His response had the car veering off into the middle of the road.
“What the fuck, Brody! Watch what you’re doing, or you’ll get us killed. Christ alive, man.” Aaden’s angry shout had Nick hide his face in his arm to stop the laughter from escaping when Aaden clung onto the “oh shit” bar at the side of his head.
“Stop overreacting. I did an advanced police driving course. I was distracted for a second. We’re fine.” As Brody spoke, Nick felt his eyes bore into him in the rear-view mirror. He didn’t look up but kept his eyes downcast. He didn’t want him to see his confusion.
Does Brody not want me to leave?
No.
He hasn’t shown any interest.
Yes, he bloody has. Stop pretending the kiss didn’t happen.
Nick closed his eyes, praying the voice of reason would shut up and stop giving him hope, hope that wanted to grow and spread faster than any weed in a garden could.
He sighed and rested his head back. He pulled himself away from thoughts of Brody to a more worrying problem, Christina. It had been years since she’d bothered to mess with him. He remembered all too well what her spells felt like when they sang across his skin.
So, why spell him now?
What was it that had her trying to interfere between him and Brody? Because that was the only thing that seemed plausible.
She had nothing else to gain from messing with him, did she?
Christina stomped her tiny foot as she watched Max stalk away from her. He’d yet again deflected their conversation from Princess. And it was starting to piss her off.
Why isn’t he just playing ball?
“You know why, Christina. And why you persist in trying to get him to allow you to take over Princess’s soul is beyond me. You had your time. You were able to do whatever you wanted and have. Now that time, it appears, is over. Get over yourself. Don’t you think Max has suffered enough?” Morgana’s rationalisation of the facts had Christina want to scream.
“That may very well be the case, Morgana, but I do not wish for this to be my last cycle, and from what King Manannán has inferred, this will be it for me in this form. So of course, I’m going to look for a substitute. And as much as I don’t wish to be a bloody cat, I have little option. Princess is irrevocably linked to Max, making her damn near immortal, and therefore she is the best choice for me.”
“Please, that is my niece you’re talking about in such a blithe way.”
Morgana’s interruption had Christina’s small brow scrunch up. Her following shot had Christina silently fume.
“And using your magic to harm, you know damn well that will only come back on you, tenfold. What did that beautiful boy ever do to you?”
Morgana’s angry question had Christina fade from Max’s home. She didn’t want to get into a fight with Max nearby. She willed herself back to the Witches Barrel.
Perching on a branch, she surveyed the dark forest below. The scent of pine needles mingled with the damp earth beneath her on the forest floor. She sighed when the fragrance evoked her past life. Her hazel eyes clouded with visions as they searched the darkness for the path that her barrel had taken, on that fateful night, so many years ago.
The pain and agony was as real now as it had been then. Her body bowed as memories had her tiny hands cling to the branches. The rough bark bit into her smooth skin, but she didn’t feel it. So lost in her remembrances, she felt the spikes cutting into her flesh, ripping and tearing as the barrel battered down the hill at a rate of knots.
Christina shivered, and her pulse skittered under her skin, making her push her body into the hard bark behind her. She huffed and puffed to forcibly stop the images. Sweat beaded her brow. Her long tresses stuck to her face. Oblivious to the chilly damp air, she pushed the hair away from her face. She realised her conversation with Morgana had allowed the shutter she used to keep her past lives at bay to open.
She breathed deep. Her hand automatically went to her long tresses, twirling the strands around her finger. The bright sheen of mahogany was caught in the moonlight, making it shine. She smiled slightly at her vanity. She shifted her small bottom on the branch. The slight rasp of material rubbing against the bark broke the eerie silence.
Trying to distract herself, she concentrated on how she could get Max to do her bidding. The voice of warning ringing in her head was firmly ignored.